Taste of Her Lips
by LoneGambit
Summary: "This feeling, this rush, it's taking over you like a sweet dependence, one that you didn't realize you missed so much until it was standing right in front of you again." What happened between Brittany and Santana after the Toxic performance in episode 5x12. Rated M for sMut.


**I'll make this brief…I am alive! This is a specially written one shot based around the Toxic performance in the 100****th**** episode because we all know that Brittana in those damn outfits, something had to have happened. So here's what I imagine did. **

**You'll be seeing another update from me soonish and I'll explain more then, but for now…read and enjoy! And enjoy tonight's episode. Brittana Forever! **

/

It started with just a touch and a look.

Like it always does, like it always has.

Her hand sure and firm while still so soft against the curve of your hip.

Her eyes have always been the most intoxicating shade of blue but under the sultry red glow surrounding you and her as you both dance and sing, they're like two illuminated stars in the dark night sky.

Blazing bright like the feeling in the pit of your stomach as Brittany takes your breath away once again with just the sound of her voice and the way she moves her lips to form the sounds of those words she's singing so naturally.

Those lips, they're everything you've never been able to forget. Especially the way they meld so perfectly against your own.

But you mustn't kiss her lips, because you know that the second you taste them once more you'll be falling completely for everything about her all over again.

As if that's not completely inevitable anyway.

"Wait, Britt." You groan against Brittany's mouth as the taste of her already begins to cloud your mind and the rest of your senses quicker than even you expected it to.

"I can't wait Santana, I don't want to wait anymore." She husks back, her eyes now as dark as the sky just after the sun goes down over the horizon.

This feeling, this rush, it's taking over you like a sweet dependence, one that you didn't realize you missed so much until it was standing right in front of you again.

Brittany shifts, her hands pulling the two of you closer, her breath moist against your skin, the quiver in her body sending a spark through your own.

Her taste, her smell, the sounds she makes, the way she feels so right just the way she is pressed soft but close against your body, the way she looks at you like you're the only thing she ever wants to see again.

She may be trying to claim that her dancing isn't as on par as it used to be, but with just the way the two of you are dancing now it's as if you never stopped. She's still got it, she always has.

Just like she's always had you.

Your back is guided into the steamy glass of your little dance area on the auditorium stage. Somehow you went from here in your sexy lingerie to your Cheerio uniforms and back to the sexy lingerie again, but you're not complaining. Brittany's body in these bare minimum scraps of material isn't anything you're going to turn away.

Like the song you just sang, it's toxic in the very best of ways.

Fighting her advances is pointless, no matter what your brain says, your body always reacts to Brittany, Brittany, Brittany.

Her eyes are on you, focused and calculating. She's looking at you but she's doing so much more. Communicating without words has always been one of the biggest strengths you and Brittany share, relationship or not.

Touch, in any form, is more expressive than words could be. The same as how you singing to her is such a better way to express yourself.

You watch, your breathing shallow, as the dark tinted blue of Brittany's eyes flickers from your own eyes to the swell of your lips and back again before that roguish smirk of hers pulls across her lips and she's tilting towards you while parting them.

A turn of your head at the last moment diverts Brittany's lips from their intended path to your own, but sets them on a possibly much more dangerous journey along the skin of your neck.

You want to protest. And yet you're completely helpless to do so.

Maybe you can allow her lips on your neck for just this time around.

For thirty seconds you bask in the feeling of Brittany's touch against you again. The feeling of her sure hands molding along the curves of your body, tracing a path like a course on a map. They know everything that makes your heart race, your temperature spike, and your breathing shudder.

That euphoric haze your mind slips into when Brittany is around starts to take over, and you let it no matter how dangerous you know it is.

One touch and you're gone, and there's no coming down.

Before you know it, Brittany's taking a step back from you. The feeling of her lips against your neck lingers as she guides you by the hips to follow her. Through the faint red glow you manage to glimpse the direction that Brittany is headed; towards the single metal chair in the center of the little cubicle you were dancing in earlier.

Suddenly the fact that the both of you are already wearing skimpy revealing outfits is infinitely more exciting, and that much more, for lack of a better word, toxic. Brittany's fingers dance down the length of your arm and back up again until she trails them over the angles of your shoulders, making you involuntarily shiver as the light caress causes goose bumps to form all over your body.

When Brittany's hands slip to the clasp of your bra you find yourself swallowing the lump that's formed in your throat, her eyes still that dark shade of seduction, as they remain completely focused on you. Her lips are parted, and you can hear the way her breathing is coming in shallow breaths similar to that of your own breathing.

You both want this, you know you can't wait any longer, and you know that even if you thought about stopping it, you've already slipped too far under.

Later you might try to get back on the path you've been attempting to follow, the one where you tell yourself that you're over Brittany, even if sub consciously you know that has never been and never will be a possibility, but right now you'll just let this moment take you where it may.

With that last thought in mind, you take a bold step forward, guiding Brittany's body back until she stumbles and falls to sit on the chair behind her.

You shift your weight and lift your knee, placing it against the metal of the chair and along the side of Brittany's thigh. You lift your other knee to do the same on the other side until you're straddling Brittany's lap, hovering above her as the faint shadows of the auditorium highlight everything right about the splendor and beauty before you.

The way Brittany's chest heaves, her gorgeously succulent breasts lifting with each breath as sweat glistens against her porcelain skin. As your hands trace up the column of her neck, you feel her pulse beat rapid under your palms, and you lean in close enough to see the way speckles of silver and gold are swimming in the depths of Brittany's dark eyes.

"Santana." She whispers your name, the sound like an echo in your ears and an ignition to the blood in your veins as it sends it racing through you and awakens your body that much more.

It's as if all this time you've just existed, and suddenly Brittany is the only thing that can wake you up and really make you feel alive.

You wonder if you do the same to her, wake her body up and make her feel alive.

Her fingers frantic grasp on the clasp of your bra top tells you that Brittany may be feeling the same things as you.

When Brittany's soft fingers, gentle and soothing, trail back up to the straps on your shoulders and dip under to draw them away, your eyes lock and your breath gets caught in your throat.

She's watching you again, admiring you, studying you, and taking you in. Like a painter studies their subject before crafting their masterpiece.

Her gaze is so mesmerizing and calm that you don't even realize that she's removed your bra until her eyes flicker to your chest. You're nervous for a second about her reaction, it's been a while since you've seen each other but then Brittany's lips stretch into a smile and you know that she's on the same page.

"Still so incredibly beautiful." She whispers before the tips of her fingers ghost across the sides of your ribs and she tilts forward until her lips brush along the swell of your left breast.

Your sharp inhale is the only noise that's made for ten seconds as Brittany's lips press light kisses into your skin across the top of your chest, her thumbs stroking circles into your sides as your own hands shift to slide through her blonde locks, holding her close and grounding yourself at the same time.

Her lips skim across the tip of your nipple and you gasp again before the feeling of her tongue circling the bud snaps your eyes open and forces them down. You can't contain the sound that bubbles up in your throat and escapes your lips as you watch Brittany's tongue flick out between her soft pink lips and caress your rapidly hardening peak.

You also can't contain the way that seeing her sitting below you in her little black skirt, plaid leggings, and red push up bra make the area between your legs flood with wetness and ache for relief.

A sharp nip to your breast causes you to gasp out her name, "Britt!" before your hips roll in a downward grind that's completely out of your conscious control. You feel her hum against your skin before her fingers play teasingly across the clips that connect your stockings to your garter belt.

Then she's unclipping the garment, but she's not doing it quick enough. You shift impatiently and reach down to attempt to shove the top part of the belt off, which would leave you exposed in only your lacy black panties.

Instead of your hand finding it's way down to help Brittany, her long fingers wrap around your wrist and prevent you from offering any assistance. You glance up just enough to lock eyes with her again and watch as she slowly shakes her head, a soft, impish smile crossing her lips.

"You can leave that on." She whispers as her other fingers pop the last clip off your stockings and then her fingers hook in the band of your panties. Without the strap connecting the stockings to the garter belt, Brittany is more than free to slip your panties away from the intimate place they cover.

You let her because the feeling that's still overtaking the rest of your body is that same sweet addiction of Brittany, always. It's still too late to give up. Or maybe it's too late not to give up since you're already so far gone.

Everything is completely overtaking you.

"Stay with me Santana." Brittany's voice permeates in your ear, a softness layering the seductive tone as her hand releases its grip on your wrist and her palm smoothes over the skin of your waist, twisting up and running faintly across your abs, ribs, and chest until her fingers curve across your collarbone and cup the nape of your neck.

Your heavy panting sends hot air across the distance of your faces, and you watch as your latest breath causes Brittany's eyelashes to flutter briefly. With your help and slight adjustments, she's managed to tug your panties past your knees where they remain carelessly as you settle back onto her lap, your body shivering at the feeling of bare exposure between your legs.

While Brittany's right hand curls over the curve of your hip, under the material draping down from your garter belt, her left hand puts pressure on the back of your neck until your lips are pressing together.

Any thoughts of protest that would come from the rational part of your brain are overpowered by the side that controls pleasure when you feel Brittany's tongue slip across your bottom lip for the briefest of moments before it's gone and her two longest fingers trail through the wetness dripping from your sex.

The moan your throat creates forces your lips to part and allows Brittany to dip her tongue into your mouth, her lips still pressed firmly against your own.

It's a kiss you didn't think you'd give, but now you can't take back.

There's no longer anything else that you can think of doing but giving everything you have, right now, to her.

A flick of her tongue in your mouth is simultaneous with the tips of her fingers brushing across your bundle of nerves, a touch that makes your body jerk and shudder in her grasp. Suddenly you need some part of her to hold on to and feel.

Your lips part from Brittany's with a whimpering moan as she strokes the tips of her fingers across your pulsing clit once more. Your hands fall to her shoulders, clumsy in their efforts to remove the straps of her bra from her milky shoulders. Finally you do, but you moan again when Brittany draws you closer and shifts her fingers lower through your wet heat.

"Hmmph!" You gasp as your eyes squeeze tightly shut and your forehead falls to Brittany's bare shoulder, your mouth dropped open but no sounds are coming out. She's got you all wrapped up and your world is spinning around and around. Your fingers manage to find the clasp on her bra and you rip it apart before forcefully tugging the garment from her body.

For a few glorious seconds, your eyes appreciate the fullness of her bare breasts in front you, Brittany's nipples pink and perky, before you feel the tip of her middle finger push just slightly inside of you. She draws it out a second later, and runs the newly collected wetness through your already soaked folds, parting them only to return to circling the hard nub at the top of your sex.

"Britt, _oh_." You manage to release, as your hands fall to cup her breasts.

A moment of self-satisfaction is granted to you when you draw a similar pleasurable moan from Brittany's lips when your thumbs flick across her nipples, but it's short lived because her fingers are circling your entrance once more.

Brittany waits for you, like she always does.

She waits until your brown eyes lock with her swirling blue, that bond of trust and love and comfort that has always come with 'it's better with feelings' forming between the two of you before she takes you.

Your hands squeeze her breasts and your brow creases in pleasure as the length of her fingers fill you up. You pant desperately for a moment, having not felt something so amazing for some while but at the same time having never forgotten what it feels like when Brittany's inside of you.

She's gentle at first. Careful, almost as if she's afraid you'll break or shatter at her touch. The way her fingers feel curling inside of you almost makes you think the same, but you know that Brittany's never broken you apart.

She's always been the one to put you back together.

Your vice like grip upon Brittany's flesh eases bit by bit as your hips start to roll in a rhythm with her slowly pumping fingers. Her lips press against the corner of yours again and you allow it, if only for now. You can worry about pretending this wasn't inevitable again later.

As you relax in her arms, in her presence, in her love, Brittany fills you deeper and faster.

Her lips part from their position as she lets out a low groan, her forehead creasing in concentration as she keeps her rhythm steady. The bottom of the chair you both occupy is slowly scrapping across the auditorium stage floor as you rock together as one, and Brittany's breasts bounce freely against her chest mesmerizing you once more with the beauty of it.

"_Ugh_-Brittany." You gasp when her left arm wraps around your waist to pull your bodies tighter together, her fingers pushing into you quicker. Her lips reattach themselves to your nipple and she gives a sharp suck, amplifying the pleasure that's already coursing through your veins.

Your own fingers pinch and tug at Brittany's pink nipples between them, your sex clenching at her fingers when she curls them to stroke that spot inside of you. She releases your hard nipple from between her lips with a wet pop.

"Santana." She murmurs, just above a whisper drawing your eyes back down to hers. They're clouded and darker than you've ever seen them. You gasp and release another moan as Brittany strokes that spot inside of you again before you manage to focus back on that blue you could never forget.

You wait for her to say something, and find yourself waiting up until the point her thumb presses against your clit and sends you spiraling into your release when you realize that she never wanted to say anything, she just wanted to watch you, to see the look on your face when you fell apart.

The thought alone intensifies your orgasm and your hips roll sub consciously against her fingers in bliss before you feel Brittany capture your lips, and the moan on the tip of your tongue at the feeling of your walls convulsing against her digits, in a sweet kiss.

She's always given you everything you could have hoped for and never knew you needed. She's always waited, patient and understanding. She's always known, even when you were apart and not speaking as regularly you never felt like she wasn't there for you, even if at times you felt you weren't there for her.

Brittany's always been it all.

/

Some fifteen minutes later, the two of you find yourselves getting dressed back into regular clothes in the same locker room you would sneak into and have sex in after Cheerios practice only a few years ago.

Your body still hums with that feeling of bliss, the one you get, and the one you've only ever gotten from being with Brittany, after the two of you have made love.

You don't understand what you're feeling, in fact, you're still wondering about whether or not what just happened in the auditorium actually happened or if it was all a dream.

All you can clearly think about is that you and Brittany were dressed in little to nothing and then you basically lost control of things after listening to her sing sexy and then watching her dance even sexier.

Seeing Brittany dance is the most amazing thing ever, and you can't wait to see it again.

Even if you're not entirely sure about everything else, particularly the lingering tingling feeling that you can still sense on your lips.

Kissing her now though, with your walls are back up, you know that can't happen again. At least, not until you're sure about some things.

You feel her presence at your side, her breath brushes across your neck as the tips of her fingers ghost across the skin of your forearm. She leans in; cautious because she knows what may or may not have just happened can't be spoken about right now.

"Sorry," she whispers once more against the corner of your mouth before taking a deep breath. "I know we probably shouldn't have done that, yet, but when I'm around you Santana, I can't control the way my body reacts. I hope you know that even if you pretend it didn't happen, there are still some things that I need to tell you."

With that she presses a kiss to your temple and turns to walk out of the room. Your eyes linger on the curve of her ass in those bright blue jeans and your heartaches at the honesty of her words.

You know what she means because you feel the same.

It doesn't matter how many times you tell yourself you're over this, and it won't matter how many times you try to tell her either.

Brittany never fails to get you, to take you higher and her intoxication will always linger in your veins. From the first hit, you were addicted to her.

And it all started with the taste of her lips.

/

**So there's that. This has the potential to turn into a two-shot (perhaps more) depending on how tonight's episode turns out. **

**You're welcome to share your thoughts on it or what you think you might like to see in a second installment! Now I'm off to watch the episode and probably die of feels!**


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